Super(un)natural
by TSOHG A MA I
Summary: Kody Maverick is a normal girl, who's just a little down on her luck when circumstances force her into calling her estranged father for help. Her whole life is changed in a single day. Thrown unceremoniously into the brutal world of hunters and monsters, Kody gradually learns she's more a part of the Supernatural than she ever could've dreamed in her worst nightmares... (OC/?)
1. PROLOGUE

**PROLOGUE**

I was camped out at the women's shelter when I finally convinced myself to make the call.

I'd just woken up to find the contents of my bag all dumped out and thrown around like garbage. My cash was gone; laptop—gone. I can't even begin to describe the blow that was, since I had all my ideas saved on there. With a sinking feeling of dread, I knew I'd have to start from scratch… And the thought finally presented itself, ' _This is it, Kody; this is your rock bottom_.' At long last, I knew I was desperate and miserable enough to ponder my last resort.

A kindly volunteer shelter attendant took pity on me and let me use her phone after assuring her who I was calling and allowing her to be present for the duration. She wished me good luck with a sunny smile, and I remember her teeth stood out a vivid pearly white against the dark of her skin. Little meaningless things surreally brand themselves in my mind when I know my life is about to take an about face pivot—those little turning points in our lives where we take a leap, without knowing what might be lying in wait below…

I dialed the ten numbers slowly, the impact of each button against my finger pad feeling much more dramatic than the action really was. Then I listened with baited breath as it rang shrilly in my ear, once, twice…six times.

" _Your call has been forwarded to an automated voice messaging system_ —"

I flipped the phone shut, unable to mask the torn look of dismay on my face. Of course he wouldn't answer, he probably doesn't even have the stupid phone anymore anyway. It's been years and years. Why would he? It's not like I can say I'm surprised. I shouldn't even be disappointed—shouldn't have gotten my hopes up…

"Well," Miranda began, and when I looked up at the attendant she urged, "give it another try."

I bit my lip to keep it from trembling, shaking my head forlornly. "He's not going to answer…"

"You don't know unless you _try_ ," she admonished, and put a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Listen girl, I see a lotta troubled folks come through here. But you got a good head on your shoulders. This ain't the sorta place you need t' be." She gave my shoulder another squeeze, and advised, "Try again."

I bit my lip harder and gave a reluctant nod, punching in the number again with slightly tremulous fingers.

This time, it picked up on the first ring.

"Who are you, and how did you get this number?" a hard voice demanded gruffly in my ear.

My eyes widening, almost too afraid to believe it, I faltered out softly, "…Dad?"

"…Kody?" The hard voice softened to one of puzzlement, then abruptly, he asked, "Where are you?"

Haltingly, thickly, I explained my unfortunate situation, unable to keep the tears out of my voice this time. Miranda was at my side giving me one armed hugs and supportive encouragements all the while, and I couldn't express just how grateful I was to the woman. Her motherly kindness was almost like a knife in the heart, but I tried to accept it with grace, even when I felt the knife twisting in even deeper. My own mother hadn't felt maternal towards me since I was ten—like a cute puppy that grows up to be not so cute, and the owner doesn't want it anymore—so warm hugs, and comforting words were relics of my childhood. Despite that, she was still my mother, and I loved her… But that just made it worse. I wished I could _hate_ her—it would be easier to blame her for everything that went wrong in my life. But I couldn't.

By the time Dad showed up in the early hours of the morning, Miranda had already gone home. I left a note for her, thanking the woman for all she had done for me. It seemed such a small thing, letting a stranger use your phone. But to me? Right now? It was everything.

But the reunion between my dad and me wasn't exactly what one could call comfortable.

I hadn't seen him since I was two.

That's when he and Mom split up. She never told me why, exactly; she never talked about it, other than to tell me it was none of my damn business. Though I got the feeling it might have had something to do with the fire. Even after all these years, the burns still disfigured him. As cruel as it was to say it, his face reminded me a little of Sandor Clegane from Game of Thrones. Gruff, rugged, and gruesome, with tarnished remnants of a once handsome man beneath. He'd almost died trying to get me out of that fire in the nursery. Two years later, he'd left a single contact number and hit the road. Sure, I'd get the occasional birthday card or whatever, but those eventually stopped. I used to think of him quite literally as my hero. But after years of zero contact and an increasingly complicated life, the rose-colored glasses gradually came off…

"How'd you get here so fast?" Last I heard, he'd been living somewhere around South Dakoda; this was _Miami_.

"…Had a job in Louisiana," he grunted, keeping his eye on the road. His weathered hands gripped the steering wheel of the truck a little tighter. "Lucky you called when you did." When he finally glanced at me with a steely look, he asked, "Ya wanna tell me what in the devil you were doing in a homeless shelter, Dakoda? The hell is that mother of yours thinking?"

I frowned, and looked down at my feet with a slow sigh.

"…It's a long story."

He made an expression that might have included an arched brow if he still had them.

"Long road home, kid," the corner of his permanent grimace twitched into what once could have been a charming smile—now only made him look more menacing. "We got time."

I could only focus on the word _home_ , and how there was no way it could be this easy.

Turns out, I was right.

My introduction to the life of hunting was not a smooth transition.

It came at a rest stop in Kansas when I was headed to the restroom out back. A creep tried to grab me, and Dad chopped his head off. No, I mean he _literally_ chopped his head off. I was so shocked I couldn't even scream. At that point Dad dragged both me and the…body into the restroom and very matter-of-factly gave me 'The talk.' Apparently, Dad had missed the vampire—because those actually exist outside of Anne Rice and Twilight—on his last hunt, and it had followed him all the way from Louisiana—which was just too much—for revenge.

"No," I said, my freak-out level reaching overdrive heights, "no fucking way. You're out of your mind—"

In lieu of words, Dad quickly held up the severed head in my face and pressed down a certain way on its gums. This time, I _did_ scream when a few needle-like teeth distended overtop of normal ones.

"Lesson one," he recited as I held a horrified hand over my mouth. "To kill a vampire, cut off the head."

I'll admit, I seriously considered hitchhiking back to Miami at that point. But then the thought occurred to me that I'd be right back in the sorry situation I'd just left, only with an entire _world_ of bad out there that I had absolutely no idea how to confront. Ignorance truly is bliss. And I didn't dare leave Dad when he was the only resource willing to teach me how to fight these things. And though he was bleak and grim faced about it as he was towards just about anything, he saw the necessity in it just as much as I did.

"The hell was your mother thinking?" he muttered again, like a curse. "Putting you out on the streets when she _knows_ what hunts little girls at night… Next time I'm in Florida I might have to pay her a visit."

"Wait," I interjected incredulously, "she _knew_?!"

Dad's grim countenance became even more severe as he rumbled, "Oh, she knew. Knew even before I did…"

"What does that mean?" I asked, then again more hesitantly, "Is…is it the reason you guys broke up?"

Dad glanced at me out of the corner of his good eye and huffed, "We split for a bunch of reasons, kid…"

A surge of righteous anger had me protesting, "I'm not a kid—I'm twenty-three fucking years old. I'd like to think I'm old enough to know why I grew up without a father."

"You grew up without a father because I lost the custody battle," he snapped. "If you think I would've left you with that demon dealing _witch_ for any other reason…" he trailed off painfully, and declared. "I'm no kidnapper, Dakoda."

After a tentative silence, I asked, "When you say 'witch,' do you mean that figuratively, or…?"

He snorted softly and shook his head, "Wish I did."

"Mom's a witch?" I wanted confirmation.

"More of a hedge witch now," he shrugged helplessly. "Back to her love potions, I suspect…" He stared out the windshield stonily. "Lesson two: If a witch ain't hurting anyone, leave them be."

I thought of the vile concoctions she always had me help her with in the kitchen. She made her husband Bill drink them, 'for his health.' I always just watched on in sick amusement whenever he was forced to drink the cocktail of ingredients. (Which, incidentally, included distilled cat piss). But with this new revelation, my eyes widened in alarm.

" _No_ …" I gasped, then looked at Dad. "Did she use it on you too?"

His sullen silence spoke loud enough.

"Oh my god…" I shook my head. "That's…how is that not hurting anyone? And, what did you mean by demon-dealing?"

Dad didn't answer my first question, but in response to the second, he merely recited, "Lesson three: A witch can gain more power by making a deal with a demon."

"Demons are real…" I muttered, not exactly surprised at this point. "Is there anything that _isn't_ real?"

Dad thought about that for a moment and shrugged. "The Easter bunny?"

"Why does that sound like a question?" I demanded hotly.

He shrugged yet again.

"Lesson four: Question everything."

In the months following, my life was completely derailed. We didn't actually make it to North Dakoda until a couple weeks later because Dad got a tipoff from a friend about a werewolf causing some havoc in Bumfuck, Nevada. Yes, that was the actual name of the town—something that actually got a laugh out of Dad when he saw the look on my face. I suppose as far as road trip partners go, he wasn't the worst. We had a similar taste in music, and I could tell which songs he liked the most because he would sing softly along with the radio whenever one of them played. You wouldn't be able to tell by his face because of how gruesome it looked, and how gruff he always sounded, but Dad had an amazing singing voice.

Once, a song I loved by _Silverchair_ came on, and I heard him humming along to the intro, almost too soft to hear. I'd noticed Dad only sang loud enough to be just heard over the music, and so, curious, I'd reached over and turned the volume up. He'd paused and sent me a fierce look, which I returned merely with a mischievous little smile, and turned the volume up a little higher with a challengingly raised brow.

With an amused sniff and a shake of his head, he began, " _It's twelve-o-clock, and it's a wonderful day…I know you hate me, but I'll ask anyway…_ "

Starting to grin, I joined in with, " _Won't you come with me, to a place in a little town…the only way to get there is to go straight down…_ "

And so it went, driving down the road, singing, " _Yoooooou, wait 'til tomorrooooow!_ " at the tops of our lungs.

Stupid as it was, I think that was the moment when I really started to love my dad—despite whatever else came with the package. Hunting monsters really was a small price to pay I decided, when the ever-present chill in my heart started to thaw. I learned Dad and I had more in common than I ever did with my mom. We were both quiet, and had the same black sense of humor. Was this what it was supposed to feel like, I wondered. Sure, Dad was strict, and barked orders like a drill sergeant sometimes, but I understood why he did it. I'd make mistakes, and he'd shout himself hoarse, but he did it because he didn't want me to get hurt. He didn't seem to love me any less, even if I was the clumsiest hunter in existence. He acted annoyed and surly when really, he was just worried.

When we finally made it to Sioux Falls, where Dad lived, after taking on a pack of werewolves—which, I might add, was scary as _hell_ —it was just our luck we got pulled over in the middle of the night. I looked at Dad nervously as the red and blue lights flashed, illuminating his shiny burnt skin in odd ways. His covered truck bed was full of things like machetes and shotguns, fake IDs, and god knows what else. If we got searched under probable cause, we were fucked.

And my eyes must've been screaming this at him because Dad just kept up his grim poker face and said, "Keep your mouth shut."

I was nodding hurriedly when there was a metallic tap on his window, apprehension building in my chest at the sharp command, "Can you step out of the vehicle, Sir?"

I tried to focus on the swinging dream catcher swaying to-and-fro from the rearview mirror, averting my eyes from the situation as sweat gathered in my clenched fists. Dad compliantly opened his door and got out, only to be assaulted.

I just about reached for the gun in the glove compartment before I realized the officer was _hugging_ dad.

"Mav! Where have you been?" she exclaimed warmly, patting him on the back. Then, spotting me, she asked, "And who's this?"

"My daughter, Dakoda," he grunted unaffectedly, unfazed by the bubbly officer. Clearly, they knew each other.

Not one to be rude, despite Dad's order to keep my mouth shut, I slid over and held out my hand, "Call me Kody."

"Sheriff Jodi Mills," she grinned, clasping my hand in a warm, friendly shake. She turned back to Dad, and remarked, "I didn't know you had a daughter, Mav."

"Been havin' some trouble with her mom," Dad explained with his habitual shrug. "She'll be staying with me for a while. Teachin' her some of the trade."

"Oh, you're interested in fixing up cars too, huh?" Jodi asked me cheerfully.

After a moment of uncertainty, and a glare from Dad, I nodded my head hurriedly. "Oh, yeah. I love cars."

I couldn't give a rat's ass about cars.

"Well," Jodi said, patting Dad's shoulder with a grin, even if she had to reach up pretty far to do it, "there isn't a better teacher than your Daddy. Best mechanic in town. Pretty good handyman, too. Everyone here knows, if there's a problem, call Mav."

The Ghostbusters theme started playing unhelpfully on a loop in my head.

"Yep…" I faltered out, my own grin a little too wide. "That's Dad, alright."

"Welcome to Sioux Falls!"

* * *

 **So, I'm having some major troubles with _Not About Angels_ —probably going to have to reboot it.**

 **Until then, I hope you enjoy Kody and her story. This was just an introduction of sorts, so lots more action and character development next chapter due to a minor time jump. You'll get a better idea of where we are in the continuity of Sam and Dean too, because Sam makes an appearance.**

 **If you're reading this, thanks for giving this story a try. And if you like it...**

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**

 **(Anything helps!)**


	2. DETOURED ON SOME RANDOM PATH TO HELL

**SUPER(UN)NATURAL**

 **DETOURED ON SOME RANDOM BACKWOODS PATH TO HELL**

" _The houses are abandoned, by those who could escape, and we will be the future, and you…you will never change…_ "

I should probably be used to waking up in strange places by now.

" _Since there's no room in Heaven, you've made this town…this town, your grave…_ "

It probably isn't good for my continued life expectancy.

I was leaned up against a tree blinking blearily around at the unfamiliar surroundings with a building panic. Ripping out my blaring earbuds with a groggy wince, I stood abruptly and almost tripped over an old wagon wheel as I attempted to get my bearings. Next, I almost tripped over a _person,_ and stumbled back in shock. I frowned heavily, my brow furrowing in consternation as I realized I wasn't the only one that got dumped here, apparently.

"Hey," I nudged him with my foot. When he didn't stir, I knelt down and shook his shoulder, enunciating a louder, " _Hey_ —"

And then I was unceremoniously flipped onto my back, a forearm cutting off my air supply.

I wheezed out my favorite curse word, and tapped his arm, trying to indicate surrender in the only way I could. A look of alarm morphed the guy's attractive features and he let me up with a sincere apology. I waved him off, accepting a hand up, rubbing my neck with a slight cough.

"Are you alright?" killer-reflex-guy asked. I had to look up to retain eye-contact. Like my dad, this guy had some serious altitude going on.

"Yeah, sure. Happens all the time…" I rasped out with an uncertain chuckle, a dark foreboding feeling crawling up my spine. Starting to frown, taking in the typical flannel and jacket ensemble, I tentatively asked, "You a hunter?"

Surprise morphing his face, he asked in return, "You know about hunters?"

I sighed heavily. "Unfortunately… And I think this situation just got about ten times worse."

"You're a hunter too?" he deduced quickly, frowning as well at the implications. If someone was kidnapping hunters, and marooning them in the middle of nowhere, it couldn't mean anything good.

"Sort of," I answered with a shrug—habit I picked up from Dad. "I help my Dad out with spells and stuff, anyway. He's the brawn, I'm the brains… You know what I mean?"

The stranger flashed a quick smile, and said, "Yeah. Kinda." Then he introduced himself as, "Sam Winchester."

"Sounds familiar. I've heard about you." I shook the offered hand firmly and returned, "Kody Maverick."

"Joe Maverick's daughter?" Another surprise, apparently. "Wow. He's a legend."

"yeah, I've heard that too…" I offered up a brief sheepish smile before looking around again and wondered, "Where the fuck are we?"

We wandered down a deserted dirt-paved street attracted by the sound of an old, creaky windmill-vane turning eerily. I held a lock of blue-black hair up and frowned at Sam.

"No wind." Not a single strand was disturbed.

"That's not good…" he muttered back eyeing the weathervane warily.

"I'd say we're in a _world_ of not-good right now…" I remarked darkly, holding up my cellphone which had zero bars. Checking his next, Sam nodded in agreement.

"Let's stick together," he proposed. "We'll get out of here, find my brother, and get you back to your dad."

"Sounds like a plan," I murmured, then shrugged. "But since when do those ever go right?"

Hopping up onto a rickety old porch, checking through the windows of some of the deserted houses when he asked, "Do you have any idea how we ended up here?" At the negatory shake of my head, he tried again, "What's the last thing you remember?"

With another shrug I answered, "Dad was taking me to visit some family out at the Indian reservation at Pine Ridge. I put my music on, then I think I fell asleep in the truck… Next thing I know, I'm waking up in no-where-ville." A pause, and then, "What about you?"

"My brother and I stopped at a diner. I went in to get some food for the road, and…" he paused thoughtfully, thinking over something very carefully.

Whatever he was about to say I never knew, because I walked right past him after spotting something over his shoulder. With growing alarm, I asked, "Are those _bullet holes_?"

I approached the side of the house surveying the damage critically and feeling over it with a careful hand. I looked back at a troubled Sam, who said, "Yeah, looks like it…"

I calculated the trajectory in my head, acting it out with my hand though the air (I probably looked like a crazy person, which was nothing out of the ordinary) then pointed at an upstairs window— "There."

Without waiting for Sam, I kicked in the door of the house across the street and maneuvered carefully up the structurally precarious stairs. God, it was so creepy, this place. Where the hell were we? I half expected a ghost to show up any minute. That'd be just my luck. And _god_ , what was that _horrible_ smell? It only got stronger when I got upstairs. I quickly looked around and located the door to the room with the window. Heading towards it, I was in no way prepared for what I found behind it.

"Kody," Sam came up the stairs behind me, saying, "we really need to stick togeth—" just as I backed hurriedly out of the room with a hand over my mouth, muffling my horrified, "Holy mother of Jesus…"

When Sam saw the pile of putrefying bodies, he cringed.

"What the _hell_ is going on here?" I gasped, swatting my hand irately at some of the army of flies that had escaped the room.

"…Let's find out," Sam resolved, heading valiantly into the murder room with his shirt pulled up over his nose.

"Ugh…" I complained in absolute revulsion, but I forced myself to follow his example. I never really dealt with bodies. Clearly. I usually left that part of the job up to Dad. And for some reason—perhaps some misplaced desire to protect me—he let me.

We laid out the bodies side by side, despite my strong aversion, and involuntary noises of disgust. I could tell it was annoying him, even if he didn't say anything, and with a wince I apologized, "I'm _sorry_. I don't mean to be such a pain—I'm still not used to all this…" I explained, "I only found out monsters exist six months ago…"

"It's alright." He offered up a reassuring, if half-hearted smile, helping me haul the leaking corpse of woman in a sun dress over to the side of our lineup. "I'd actually be more worried if you _weren't_ freaked out by this kind of thing…" Wiping his hands off on his jeans, he inquired, "Can I ask how you got into all this? I mean, your dad's a hunter, I'm sure he had something to do with it…"

"Yeah, actually…not really?" I wiped my own hands off on some motheaten curtains, telling my inner germaphobe to pipe the fuck down. "I lost my job and I was living it rough in Miami for a while—even had to sell my first guitar for food—before it occurred to me to catch up with Dad. He and my mom split when I was little," I explained, heading for the next body's legs. "Then a straggler from the vamp nest he was hunting in Louisiana before he came to get me caught up with us—almost killed me. After that, the curtains came up, and I couldn't stomach the thought of being on my own, vulnerable to everything that's out there…so I stuck with Dad, asked him to teach me what he knew." I chuckled self-depreciatively at Sam's skeptical look. "He didn't really want to, of course. I'm kind of a wuss…and a terrible hunter. He keeps telling me I'm going to make the rest of his hair fall out."

"You're not that terrible," Sam said, and I looked at him in surprise. "That thing you did with the bullet holes was pretty cool."

"What? Algebra?" I grinned.

"It's often underrated," Sam fired back, hefting the last body down, and gesturing towards the window. "And look—we got a shotgun out of it."

Sure enough, there, leaning on the windowsill, was a double barrel shotgun and a box full of shells. It was probably an inappropriate time and place to jump around like I'd just won the lottery.

"Now, take a look at these," Sam instructed, gesturing me over to the corpses, all in various stages of decomposition. "What do they all have in common?"

There were two women and four men. One of the women seemed to have South Asian features underneath the sunken cadaverish pallor. One man was black. They were all dressed in different style clothes, and one, with an unappealing birthmark on his face, even appeared to be wearing a fast-food restaurant uniform. They were all of different heights and body types but…

"They're all around the same age…" I deduced, and frowned up at Sam. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-three."

I nodded grimly, "Twenty-three…"

We held wary eye-contact for a long moment until a noise outside interrupted.

"Helloooo!" A man's voice called out, "Anybody home?"

I looked at Sam, then the shotgun, and he nodded, grabbing it and stuffing his pockets with shells. I took whatever didn't fit, and we hustled out of there. A glance in the other rooms showed similar piles of bodies, and though I wanted to stay as far away from them as possible, I paused in one room to grab a nice iron poker—always useful—from beside a fireplace before hurrying after Sam. He directed me out the back door, and we both moved silently down an alleyway, staying close to the wall with our weapons ready. In the quiet, it was easy to hear someone plodding along on the porch of the building we'd just vacated. Sam waited until the footsteps reached the edge before whirling around the corner of the house and aiming the shotgun. I followed promptly with my poker held like a baseball bat.

The guy stumbled back, ducking awkwardly with a cry of alarm, hands in the air, and Sam almost instantly pointed his gun down.

" _Andy_?" he asked, incredulously, clearly recognizing the newcomer.

" _Sam_?" maybe-Andy echoed, just as confused, and freaking out more than a little bit. "What are you _doing_ here?!"

"I don't know—" Sam began.

"What am _I_ doing here?" Andy interrupted, spotting me then, and I still hadn't lowered my poker. "Is she going to hit me with that? _Who_ is that, by the way?"

Sam gestured for me to put the poker down, which I did slowly before remembering my manners, stepping forward and sticking out my hand. "Kody Maverick."

He gripped it with a rather sweaty limp hand, and by that alone, I could tell he was panicking. I couldn't rightly blame him.

"None of us know what we're doing here," Sam explained, sending me a look that told me not to say anything about the bodies just yet. Seeing Andy in the midst of flipping the fuck out, I could see he had a point.

"Where _are_ we?" Andy stressed the question anxiously.

"We've been trying to figure that out together." Sam looked at me, then back at Andy. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"Honestly?" Andy shook his head and threw his hands up weakly. "My fourth bong load…"

"Really…?" I asked in exasperation.

"Hey," he waved a finger at me, " _don't_ judge, okay? These last few months haven't been easy." When I raised my hands reassuringly, gesturing for him to continue, he looked back at Sam, swallowed, and said, "It was weird—all of the sudden, there was this really…" he rubbed his fingers together as if trying to remember the word "…intense _smell_ , like—"

"Like sulfur?" Sam asked, exchanging a look with me, and I groaned.

"Not demons…" I covered my face, "Please, not demons—I _hate_ demons…"

"Wait, _demons_?" Andy started to flip again. He looked at Sam for confirmation, and repeated, " _Demons_?"

Sam looked annoyed with me again, but whatever he was about to say was cut off by a feminine scream. I think all of us jumped, and then unanimously decided to find the source. It wasn't hard. Cries of " _Help! Help! I'm locked in here! Somebody! Help me!_ " were loud enough to wake the dead, and I feared what else it might attract. With the prospect of demons about, I brought up the rear, watching warily behind us as we reached a dingy old shed.

"Help! Please!" The padlocked door banged wildly as whoever was locked inside attempted frantically to break it down.

"Okay!" Sam called, sounding more than reassuring. "I'm here, I'm gonna help you out, just wait a second—"

He looked around for something to break the padlock with, and I stepped up with my poker. "Here," I said, sticking it through the loop of the padlock, gesturing for Sam to take the other end. "You wanna lift, or push?"

"Smart," he remarked, firmly grabbing the other end of the poker, while I kept mine, and he resolved, "I'll lift."

"Sounds good." He clearly had the upper body strength, while all I had to do to twist the lock was push down with all my weight. "On three…two… _one_!"

The rusty lock groaned for a second under our combined efforts before flying off and nearly hitting me in the head. I swear, I have all the luck. My poker was a little bent out of shape from the stress, but none the worse for wear all things considered.

"Alright, one second!" Sam called to the unhappy occupant of the shed, unlatching the door and pulling it open. The two stared at each other for a second, the girl looking a little slack-jawed as Sam clearly recognized, " _Ava_?"

Ava's face quickly contorted and she wailed, "Saaaam!" rushing forward to hug him tightly.

I mentioned in an aside to Andy, "Does he know _everyone_ around here?"

"Guy gets around, I guess," he remarked with an uncertain shrug.

"How did you—" Ava gestured back and forth between Sam and the shed. "I mean, how—"

They proceeded to have a very quick conversation that I did not follow at all, at which point I nudged Andy, detaching one of the many charms and bracelets on my wrists. "Here. Take this. My dad gave it to me when I first found out monsters were real."

Andy's eyes widened a little as he accepted the chain bracelet gingerly, holding it up between two fingers to inspect it, fingering the charms curiously. "Uh…thanks. Are you sure? What are all these dangly things for?"

"Protection charms against demons." I shrugged. I actually didn't know what all of them were for, but, "Keeps you from getting possessed. I figured I didn't really need it anymore since I got this," I pulled the collar of my shirt down to display the anti-possession tattoo on my clavicle, which Andy eyed appreciatively. "I keep it for sentimental reasons. But you can probably find more use out of it, especially if there really _are_ demons around here. You always know it's _seriously_ bad news if demons are involved."

"I'm not sure if you're crazy, or just really sweet…" Andy remarked uncertainly.

"Let's go with 'better safe than sorry,' and 'anything's better than nothing.'" I smiled indulgently at him. "Seriously, put the damn thing on."

While Andy wrestled to get the chain on his wrist halfheartedly, I returned my attention to the reunion going on in front of us, where Ava looked to be nearly hyperventilating.

"Oh my god, if I've been missing that long, my fiancée, Brady, must be _freaking out_ —"

She paused when she stopped long enough acknowledge our existence.

"Hey… Andy." Andy waved. "Also freaking out."

I offered no introduction, a little annoyed, to tell the truth. But then again, she'd just been locked up in a shed for god knows how long…I suppose I could have stood to be a little more considerate. On the other hand, I was just as freaked as everyone else, and all I wanted was to find my dad and go home. I wanted nothing to do with demons and the piles of bodies back in that house. And the way this Ava-girl sneered at Andy and me kind of pissed me off.

Ava didn't seem to care about my cool stare, quickly returning her attention to Sam and shrilly asking, "What's _happening_?"

Sam shook his head, shooting another look at me—probably another 'keep your mouth shut about the bodies' look—and answered, "I don't really know yet… But I know what the three of us have in common." He looked at me again, adding, "And you too, Kody, if I were to take a guess."

"Wait, I'm sorry," I said quickly, and asked, "So far as I know, the only thing I have in common with anyone is our mutual… _hobby_ , Sam."

"Was there ever a fire?" he asked suddenly. "Maybe in your nursery, when you were a baby?"

I blinked my eyes a couple of times in surprise, and revealed, "Y-yeah… My dad almost died, trying to save me. How…" I squinted my eyes at him warily, "How do you even _know_ about that?"

Voices could be made out in the distance then, and Sam promised, "I'll explain later." He started off in the direction of the sound and he gestured us to follow. "Come on. Everyone stay close."

I was soon running to keep up with his lengthy stride, falling back to keep an eye on Andy every so often. He was painfully similar in appearance to my tweenaged brother, Noah, whom I hadn't talked to in months… And it might've been projecting, but I felt the nagging impulse to watch out for him.

Grabbing the sleeve of his hoody I tugged him after me, urging, "Hurry up. This isn't a day trip."

"I'm going, I'm going," he assured, panting a little. "I never do this much running."

"Now's as good a time as any to start," I advised practically. "You never know when you might get ambushed by a werewolf or something."

Andy laughed a little at first until he saw my serious face, and he realized, "You're not kidding…"

"Nope." I pulled the hem of my shirt up to expose one of the scarrings on my upper hips from just such a situation. "Werewolf scratches won't turn you, thank god—only a bite does that—but they heal up real slow, and the scars turn black. Pretty, huh?" I gestured to the wrist with the chain around it. "That chain I gave you is made out of silver too, so it should work on most things that go bump in the night. I smashed it into a werewolf's face once," I recalled with a vindictive sort of glee. "He wasn't too happy."

"I think I might actually believe you…" Andy said a little fearfully.

"Good." I beamed at him. "Then you might actually survive this."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence…" he faltered out.

When we caught up with Sam, there were two more people with him.

"Are you guys alright?" Sam asked them with concern.

Two arms, two legs—I eyed them up and down; they looked fine to me. That sure as hell didn't mean I trusted them. I'd heard of Sam Winchester before—him and his brother. They were hunters. People talked about them at the Roadhouse a lot. Good talk, mostly, though apparently, they had a penchant for stirring up shitstorms… Sam knew Ava and Andy, and (though Ava seemed a bit like a bitch) he was the senior hunter here, and I wanted to trust him. These two? Not so much. There was still a building full of dead bodies, and I was pretty positive they hadn't killed themselves.

"Who are you?" I demanded stiffly of the newcomers, putting on my best 'Dad' face. Sam sent me another exasperated look that I was beginning to think he reserved just for me.

Mr. Commando, black dude, raised his chin at me, and eyed Sam's shotgun distrustfully. Finally, he answered, "Jake Talley. You?"

"Kody Maverick," I relented slightly, nodding to the sullen blond next to him. "You next."

Sullen expression unchanged, she indicated herself merely as, "Lily."

"Are there any more of you?" Sam asked authoritatively—better than _I_ pulled off authoritative anyway—lowing the gun carefully.

Seeing that, Talley was quicker to reply, "No."

"How'd we even get here," Lily asked irately. "A minute ago, I was in San Diego."

"That's the question of the hour," I said darkly.

Talley remarked, "If it makes you feel any better…I went to sleep last night in Afghanistan."

My suspicions waned a little further. These people seemed genuinely confused, and I shared a glance with Sam before he said, "Look, I'm gonna take a wild guess—you two are both twenty-three?" At the pointed looks he got from the two, he continued, "We all are. We all have…abilities."

That's where I drew a blank.

"Wait, what?" I looked at him in befuddlement. "What are you talking about—abilities?"

Sam just looked at me knowingly and prompted, "Started…what, little over a year ago? Found out you can do things? Things you didn't think were possible?"

I shook my head rapidly. "Look, I've had my fair share of weird, Sam, but I _literally_ have no idea what you're talking about right now."

"No dreams… Anything?" he asked again.

I froze, looking at him with a growing trepidation.

"They're visions," Sam explained, glancing at the others. "Ava and I have them too." Ava nodded in confirmation. "You see things before they happen."

I shook my head, backing away slowly. "No— _no_ fucking way." I began to pace, a nervous habit I'd picked up, still shaking my head in denial. "That's not true." I glanced up and jabbed my finger through the air at him furiously. "That's _not_ true! Because if it is, my whole life has gone to _hell_ because of it! I lost my fucking job! I lost my _family_! I lost _everything_ because of _this_!"

"Yeah, well, consider yourself lucky," Lily sneered. "You're freaking out about a couple of bad dreams? Try _killing_ every person you touch."

I stopped in my tracks, shoulders rising and falling with my heightened breathing in agitation. Dad's dreamcatchers were the real deal, and really did the trick keeping out the nightmares. But the damage had already been done. I lost my internship, because I was acting 'unstable.' I lost my apartment because rent was late. Mom told me I wasn't welcome back home—she seemed afraid of something. Now that I looked back with enlightened eyes, I could remember all the demon wardings she had up around the house…

"Shit… _shit_!" I cursed violently, turning away from the sullen girl, and looking back at Sam as several things clicked in my head. "This is _bad_ ," I stressed to him in an undertone. "I need to get back to Florida. If demons are in on this, if this had something to do with the fire, I _need_ to protect my family."

"Right now, I think we need to worry about protecting ourselves, first," Sam pointed out rationally.

Talley stepped forward and asked sharply, "I think you two have more of an idea of what's going on here than the rest of us. Wanna share with the class?"

"It's demons!" Andy suddenly announced, drawing everyone's attention to him for the first time, and he looked a little uncomfortable under the scrutiny. In a less confident voice he muttered, "Demons…brought us here, I think…" He looked at me, "Right?"

"…Yeah," I confirmed grimly. "I'd say it's a pretty safe bet at this point." I looked over my shoulder and pointed in that direction with a resigned shrug at Sam who was shaking his head warningly at me. "There's a bunch of bodies piled high in a building over there. That's usually a pretty big neon flashing sign of demon activity in any given situation." At the incredulous and skeptical faces all around, I offered, "Don't believe me? By all means, go take a gander if you wanna lose your lunch."

"Okay," Lily rolled her eyes and started to walk off, "You're clearly all insane."

"Wait," Sam called, and Lily stopped, sending a dubious look over her shoulder. "Just hear us out, alright? And then you can decide what to believe on your own."

She turned back around reluctantly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Fine."

Talley still looked unsold, but nodded just the same. And with that, Sam began spinning the complicated tale of soldiers and demon wars and the apocalypse. I can remember thinking, ' _This just got ten-million times worse than I thought it was_.' I actually had to sit down on the half-dilapidated porch and hold my head between my knees, trying to regulate my breathing, muttering to myself, and letting out a foul curse under my breath every now and again. I probably wasn't exactly projecting the picture of 'sanity' but then, it's not like that was something new.

The reason I got fired was because of all the panic attacks I was having at work. And even though the dream catchers had stopped the images of horrid death and the jackhammer migraines, I still wasn't exactly what you'd call 'mentally sound.' God, I wish I had my anxiety meds with me. Then again, I think the looming apocalypse might have been a fair thing to have a panic attack over. Just…later. When I didn't have to worry about demons swooping down on us at any given moment. I was still holding onto my bent-up fire poker for dear life, and I didn't see myself letting go of it in the near future.

I practically jumped out of my skin when I felt a hand on my shoulder, jerking me out of my frantic worried thoughts, but I calmed slightly at the sight of Andy.

"Hey," he said, "come on, we're going after Jake."

I looked around wildly. "When did he _leave_?" I gave myself a little shake and muttered, "Damn, I need to get my head back in the game…" I got to my feet hurriedly and walked brusquely next to Andy, apologizing, "Sorry… I'm a mess."

"Yeah, well," he shrugged with forced cheer, "I'm a mess _most of the time_ , sooo…not like I can judge."

I gave him a fleeting smile, and recalled, "My mom told me I should get myself checked into a psych-ward…" That day still came to me with a flash of pain in my chest. Then I thought over what I had just said, and backpedaled, "Uhm…I realize that's probably not the most confidence inspiring thing to mention in a situation like this. Sorry."

"You're _not_ crazy," he said immediately, causing me to look at him in surprise. "I mean…" he explained, "I've _seen_ crazy. _Real_ crazy…" He nodded to me with certainty. "You're not it." He added with a little more hesitance, "Actually, you're…pretty awesome."

I couldn't help the slightly dorky smile on my face when I admitted, "I think that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me…"

His own grin barely lasted an instant before a storm of black smoke nearly bowled us over. Instantly, my survival instincts kicked in, and I began whacking at it frantically with my iron poker like a kid with a piñata. It dissipated quickly with an unearthly screech, but I had a sinking feeling it wasn't gone. When were things ever that easy?

Sam identified the little menace as an Achiri—some demon child-impersonator or something… And that'd be great to know if only I knew how to kill it too. That's the trouble with demons. You can send them back to hell, but making them good and dead is a whole different ballgame. I'd read up on a dozen different protection spells, and had an uncanny knack at memorizing them…but I'd found nothing yet on killing the nasty things for good. I'd be damned if I didn't find one though—if it's the last fucking thing I did—

Better not tempt fate.

I learned I was still in South Dakoda. Silver lining about being in a literal freaking ghost town. Sam figured it out. Cold Oak was the name of the god-forsaken place. I kind of got the urge to burn the whole place down.

"You know what?" Lily turned on her heal and began to walk off again, "Clearly the only sane thing to do here is get the hell outta doge."

"Yeah," I said quickly, starting after her. "I'm with you on that."

"Wait, hold on," Sam called after us diplomatically, "the only way out is through miles of woods."

"Beats hanging out with demons!" Lily retorted.

I nodded quickly in agreement. "Yeah, sorry, Sam. I am _so_ not sticking around to see what killed all those people. I'm not a coward, but I've got to think about my family."

"Look, I don't know what's happening here either," Sam answered logically. "But we don't know how many of them are out there—"

"I don't _care_!" I protested. "I've been up against demons before, and I'm _done_ dealing with their bullshit!" I threw my hands up irately. "Look, I don't know what y'all are plannin' on doing, but I'm _leaving_! And if any demon tries to get in my way, I hope they enjoy getting sodomized with iron!" I shouted to whomever it may concern, tightening my grip on my poker again for good measure. "I want _no_ part in this!"

"We're _all_ a part of this," he began, but Lily rounded on him agitatedly.

" _Don't_ say 'we,'" she snapped, furious, pacing towards him. "I'm not _part_ of 'we'—I have nothing in common with any of you!"

"Okay, look—look, I know that—"

"You don't know _anything_ ," Lily cut him off emotionally. "I—" She broke off, angry tears gathering in her eyes as she admitted, "I accidently touched my _girlfriend_."

I did _not_ see that coming.

Everyone kind of went quiet after that.

And then Sam said some comforting words that really didn't mean a whole lot of anything in my opinion that basically amounted to, "We're all in bad shape, but the best thing to do right now is to _stick together_."

I shook my head. "I disagree."

"You agreed earlier," he pointed out with some irritation. "What happened to the plan?"

"Yeah, well, plans change." I gestured around at the new company. "Look, Sam, I know I'm a shitty hunter, but I can handle some demons. I can handle a couple miles through the woods. I can make it to the next town, and call for _help_."

"Help from who? The cops?" he asked doubtfully.

"It worked before," Ava pointed out.

Sam rolled his eyes at her. "That was different…"

"Okay, both of you shut up," I snapped. "Sam, I live around here. Trust me. I know people who can help." I went on to rationalize, "The best thing to do is set up a defensible perimeter. Give me around five hours tops, and I'll be back with reinforcements."

While Sam still looked extremely unhappy with this turn of events, Talley chimed in with, "It's risky, but it's a sound strategy… Potential gain outweighs the cons, here."

"Lily." I turned to the blond sharply. "You with me?"

She nodded slowly with a frown. "Yeah…" Her eyes flicked down to the iron bar in my hand, and she asked, "Where can I get one of those?"

A corner of my mouth pulled up into a smirk and I teased, "Ready to shaft some demons, huh?"

"It's their fault my life has turned into this nightmare," she muttered acidly with a scowl. "Damn right I'm ready…"

"Let's go then."

"Gladly."

* * *

 **I want to apologize for the recycled lines in some of this.**

 **I tried to switch it up a little, and as you can probably tell, this is about to go _very_ canon divergent.**

 **Otherwise known as FUBAR.**

 **So, hopefully no more recycled lines from this point on! Yay.**

 **Please let me know what you think!**

 **Thank you _Michelle847_ for being the first to review! **

**You're friggn' awesome, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

 **Oh, also, just in case anyone was wondering, the song from last chapter was " _Tomorrow,"_ by Silverchair, and the one in the beginning of this chapter was " _This Town, Your Grave_ ," by Innerpartysystem. I figure since the episodes come with their own little soundtracks, I should make an effort for the chapters too. Can anyone see how these songs relate to the story so far? Or am I just being dumb, lol...**


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